For the Best

by LJ Scar

  My dad blamed the stress of her illness and financial difficulties on the demise of the marriage. I blamed him. When he left, he didn’t have to cut us off. No money was coming in, not even child support. He kept arguing with Mom that she needed to find an oncologist in network. This I later learned meant Mom’s supreme doctor was not on a specified list of physicians his healthcare plan recommended. This caused us to have to pay the first $5000 of all treatment. Then the lifetime maximum on out of network doctors was $250,000. The local Mayo clinic was the best in our area and they weren’t cheap. Her bills far exceeded the max. Monthly Mom’s drug treatments ran around $800. She had to use up her 401k, which Uncle Sam taxed heavily when she cashed it in. That was when she second mortgaged the house. Not long after I emptied my college fund. It still wasn’t enough.

  When Dad argued with Mom about insurance, he argued with me about my expensive private school. He was right. I didn’t enjoy the experience and would have been satisfied with a public education. I pushed the issue because I wanted to be with Tanner.

  Tanner’s parents needed him to be in private school. It was like because Trevor was learning challenged they had to prove their intelligence through their other son. I think as much as my parent’s dysfunctional marriage damaged me, Tanner’s parents push for him to be the brightest and best messed him up - dulling his natural inclinations.

  Tanner and I were both stressed. His mom was threatening to send Trevor to a group home because she felt he was difficult to manage as an adult with special needs. Not wanting to add to his misery, I kept a lot of my inner turmoil away from Tanner. He may have noticed my stacks of sorted bills, but he never commented.

  I didn’t pay any medical statements until the final notice. Even then, sometimes the bill would be turned over to a collection agency before I paid. Debt collectors became a routine part of my daily existence. They would scream and yell trying to humiliate or badger me into paying thinking I was my mom. I took those calls because stress worsened her condition. Eventually, I cancelled the land line in the house stopping the harassment. I ditched the family cell phone plan Mom and I shared, opting for cheap pay as you go phones instead.

  There was an ugly feeling gnawing at me inside. I wish I could have written it off as PMS.

  Arriving at school ten minutes early, I was zoning in my car listening to Pete Yorn crooning about a white trash beach. I could have just closed my eyes and fallen back to sleep, but they were focused on a heated conversation between a couple arguing in a Mustang two cars down. Tanner and I rarely fought, but our junior year we hit a very rough patch that had nothing to do with our families.

  Sex became a source of contention between us. Maybe it was the porn he and his friends watched, maybe it was the pills he began taking when he thought I wasn’t paying attention. I knew when I was with Tanner and when I was with his persona just by his style in bed. The funny thing was he was better on his own without the videos, when he was with me because he needed me, needed love. Eventually, our whole sex life just kind of snowballed, each of us with our own agendas.

  October, Junior Year, 1 Year Earlier

  His bedroom was dark. With one ear, he listened to the sound of the garage door opening alerting us his parents and brother had come home from the movies. We were making out on his bed.

  “I’m having trouble staying in the moment,” I whispered, trying to explain something he should have understood.

  “Why?”

  Of course he would ask that. It wasn’t like he was having any trouble getting off on my body. “Because.”

  “You need to just get over it. Stop living in the past. What’s done is done.”

  Aggravated, frustrated, humiliated, give me another description of a negative emotion ending in “ed” and it applied to me then. My plan to get pregnant had failed, my whole world was falling apart, and my mom wasn’t the only one dying inside.

  Present

  Public school was a little easier than private. I wasn’t putting forth much effort since the diploma was all I needed. There was no chance I was going on to college.

  By sixth period, I was exhausted past the point of trying to listen. The class was advanced biology. The lab portion had just dissected a cat. The smell of formaldehyde and wet fur made me want to hurl. My eyes always stung in lab partly from the chemicals but mostly because I hated to see an animal spread and flayed.

  The teacher was done with the lecture and told us we could read or study. I was reading The Stranger by Albert Camus for English lit class. Most people were studying. Two lab tables back girls were giggling and whispering. I tried to tune them out. It wasn’t about me but old incidents always made me fear it was.

  Let me explain. Timeline back to my first biology class, sophomore year. We were studying cell development, particularly during pregnancy. Some brainy kid asked the teacher about stem cell research and disease treatments. The teacher explained about cord blood - those stem cells could be harvested from the umbilical cord once a woman gave birth and used to treat patients on high-dose anticancer drugs. The transplanted cells could travel to an inflicted person’s bone marrow and begin to produce new blood cells, essentially regenerating what chemotherapy and/or radiation therapy destroyed. The results were nothing short of miraculous.

  Without a care for my future life, I decided a pregnancy was an attainable goal for a fertile young girl like me. I would keep my aspiration a secret from the public until I was in my third trimester. They showed that kind of deception all the time on TV dramas. I told Tanner because if he was going to make up half a baby he had a right to know. Without argument, he agreed.

  I studied up on ovulation. We did it on my most fertile days and a lot of the rest for months. Nothing, it was like I was the one high school girl having unprotected frequent sex who couldn’t get pregnant. I was devastated. Tanner was on some sexual high. It wasn’t long after that I found out we had gotten a label, the “it” couple.

  Chapter 8

  Hanna

  To get to the beach, my walk entailed crossing six lanes of A1A during rush hour. I hated that intersection. There was a wreck there every other day. Mostly because some traffic engineering idiot had made all the lights up to that point have one lane with a green arrow that didn’t have to stop. Tourists didn’t pay attention that this particular light had no arrow and was the standard go-caution-stop.

  At the crosswalk, I quickly untangled leashes, making sure my feet were clear. As the white light flashed a picture of a person walking, I shot off in front of the lined up traffic with two hyped up Spaniels -Romeo and Juliet ahead, and a somewhat lazy Rott -Bowzer lagging behind.

  The east side of A1A in my hometown was wealthy. Once it had only been summer and weekend beach cottages according to my dad. Now those were all swallowed by huge additions or demolished in favor of sleek cube and glassy structures that didn’t compliment the beach street.

  Bowzer began barking madly at the landscaping on just such a structure. Out of habit, I peeked around a white Oleander. Trevor sometimes hid beneath shrubs. I had to remind myself he didn’t live near enough for me to stumble upon his refuges any longer.

  Trevor usually hid so he wouldn’t get locked up in the house for the night by his mom. He liked to take jaunts in the dark of night. He didn’t do it for mischief, he liked the night sky. He loved to look at the stars.

  My last memory of Trevor going undetected was April of junior year. I had just sunk into the couch cushions to watch TV when the doorbell rang.

  Reluctantly, I peered out the window to see who was there. A hulking man had his face pressed up against the door and startled I gasped until I realized who it was. Opening the door I asked, “Trevor, does your mom and dad know you’re out tonight?”

  The forever imprinted face of a child trapped in a Down Syndrome mask shook his head no back at me. “Hanna, will you talk to me?”

  “Yes, but we need to call your house and let them know where you are.”

  He follo
wed me inside. The dark haired boy slash man knew my house well. He patted Gator on his head as he passed the doggy bed, and flung himself on the couch proceeding to flip the channels on the remote until he found Nickelodeon. I watched him as I dialed the familiar number with a nostalgic sadness for the child whose playmates and body had outgrown him.

  “Hey beautiful,” Tanner answered aware it was me from the caller ID.

  “Hey, Trevor’s here.”

  “Fuck, when did he take off?” Tanner exclaimed.

  I realized Tanner was on Trevor duty, one of his parent’s date nights. “It’s okay. I know you’re cramming for that test. He can stay here until ten.”

  I popped corn in the microwave and joined Trevor. He was watching the cartoon SpongeBob SquarePants, repeating each line he thought was funny while simultaneously bouncing up and down on the couch.

  Trevor eventually dehypertized enough to talk. “Another girl is at my house besides you Hanna. I don’t like her. She wasn’t nice to me and Tanner took her up to his room to play,” he whispered the words.

  My stomach clenched, and cold anxiety steeled through my veins.

  “Does he not love us anymore Hanna?” Trevor asked quietly like a child about to cry.

  “Sure he does.” I smiled through my tightening throat.

  He beamed back at me. “I love you, Hanna.”

  The front door opened without a knock.

  “You ready?” Tanner asked his brother with a hint of irritation.

  “Yep.”

  “Let’s go.” Tanner motioned for Trevor to follow.

  “First I need my hug and kiss.” Trevor bounded off the couch and embraced Gator who just let him. I got up to follow them to the door.

  “Don’t you want to hang out for awhile?” I practically begged.

  “I’m really stuck on a chapter.” Tanner provided a ready excuse on why he needed to leave so soon.

  Without warning, Trevor bear hugged me, lifting me off the ground, bending me back. “Trev, remember what I told you.” I choked out feeling like my spine was breaking.

  He relaxed his arms. “Sorry, Hanna, you said girl hugs are supposed to be gentle.” He smiled sheepishly. “Will you come over and read me stories?” he asked letting go.

  “She can’t tonight, Trev,” Tanner answered for me.

  With obvious discomfort, Tanner kissed me goodbye. The taste was flavored like fruity lip-gloss.

  Present

  Tanner was standing in my bedroom doorway. He had stopped by on break from his job at a local nursery. I knew he didn’t come by car instead using the service truck from his employer.

  “I’ve got a drop off. You want to ride shotgun.”

  “Where you headed?” I smiled not sure if I wanted to leave Gator but wanting out of the house.

  “I have to load up some Sagos and Palmettos from the supplier then take them north.”

  I had done this with him before. I looked back to my spot on the bed knowing another sleepless night waited for me. “Sure, why not.” I grabbed my jacket, and left the dog in my room telling him I would be back.

  He opened the front passenger door for me. When he started the engine, a familiar band roared from the stereo.

  I lowered the volume as we wove through A1A traffic to the airport expressway. “How is school?”

  “Not that bad actually,” I replied feeling the shocks bounce the truck as we passed each joint in the intracoastal bridge.

  He glanced over at me. “You haven’t mentioned prom,” he said merging right to take an exit.

  I shrugged. “I can’t go. Part of being expelled.”

  Tanner squinted sideways at me. “And you were going to tell me when?”

  “I had a lot of other crap on my mind. You can go with someone else.”

  We grew quiet. He started singing with a song on the radio as we drove over the Dames Point span. I loved that bridge with its suspension cables gleaming white and the different colors illuminating it and the St. John’s River below. The view to the east of Blount Island was ugly, a port with giant ships carrying rail freight cars mostly with Chinese companies logos on them. Giant Gantry cranes loomed like Star Wars fighters to remove the loads.

  Two exits past the northern city limits he exited into a rural area, and stopped for his load at a nursery supplier. I waited in the humid truck with the windows rolled down inhaling a breeze tinged with cigarette smoke and rich peat soil while he and two other guys hauled gallons of tropical plants into the back.

  Tanner opened the driver’s door and I noticed the way his biceps and forearms glistened and bulged from lifting the heavy plants. He had bulked up to a ridiculous mass sometime around junior year. Now his physique seemed more normal. The lean, sinewy muscle fit his narrow frame better.

  We drove north. Forty minutes later we pulled up to the guard gate. We were waved through and he maneuvered the truck back to maintenance.

  I watched him struggle with the 10 gallon shrub containers. I started to help him to speed us up, but he wouldn’t let me.

  The moon hung low, full and bright white in a clear dark sky. Finished, he settled into his seat and turned to me with a smile. “Thanks for coming with me.”

  “Thanks for asking. Will you have to get the truck back soon?”

  “No.”

  “I’d like to take the scenic return trip. Maybe cross on the ferry.”

  “Sure.”

  He drove as silence and secrets hung between us. We crossed a low bridge from Amelia Island to Talbot Island State Park.

  I needed to tell him but couldn’t decide when. “Can we stop a minute?”

  He pulled the van off the side of the road and I hopped out. The gate was down preventing cars from entering the parking lot, and driving onto the sandy beach. I ducked under and kept walking.

  “Where are you going?” he called after me.

  “To the shore,” I yelled back and began walking fast hoping for courage.

  He caught up at a fast clip, following as I made my way to the white sand deserted beach. On the horizon, the moon rested on the water casting a glow on the waves like a Wyland mural.

  “I miss this. You and me on the beach at night.” He smiled.

  I shivered involuntarily and the conversation I’d prepared died in my thoughts. I stared at the waves crashing and folded down to the soft, forgiving ground. Tanner took a place beside me.

  I closed my eyes, breathing deeply, listening to the boom as the waves crested and broke, the gurgle of the water sucking at the air in the sand, the tranquility. The sounds mirrored the beach I walked on every day, but here there were no residential lights, no noise forcing you back…just peace.

  “Hanna,” he whispered close to my ear.

  “Hhmmm?” I didn’t open my eyes.

  “It’s three a.m.” I looked up at his face looming over me and realized my head was resting on his jacket.

  We walked quietly back to the truck. I slid into the driver’s side and across instead of coming in my own door. Once he settled, I slid down, no seatbelt - the back of my head resting on his thigh. I looked up at him the whole drive home trying to summon the words that wouldn’t come.

  Chapter 9

  Tanner

  Ankle deep in lapping waves, she beckoned. A weak curl swirled up behind me and I rode it in close enough to hear her words.

  “I want to go out,” she called above the roar of the crashing surf.

  “Seriously?” I was skeptical. She hadn’t gone out since we’d spread her Mom’s ashes, and she’d done so sparingly before then. The current temp of the Atlantic was frigid. She didn’t have a wet suit.

  “Yeah. Can I hitchhike a wave with you?” Her slow smile caught at my insides.

  I nodded.

  She stripped from sweats down to a bikini, running them back to a beach towel she had discarded away from the tide. She shivered pinioning her arms to her body as she jumped into the surf reaching waist depths where I pulled her on the board. She crou
ched at the front of the board, ass to heels shoulders hunched. I paddled us out past the breakers.

  “Keep going please,” she begged.

  “How far?”

  She shrugged. “The pull is south.”

  Guiding us to deep calm waters, we both straddled the board. I looked down at half her long legs submerged wondering where she was finding her courage. She was afraid of sharks, and legs descending from surfboards looked confusingly like sea turtles, enticing to the common bull and lemon sharks sometimes in the area.

  “What’s the occasion?” I asked.

  “Bucket list.”

  “Come again.”

  She turned her head back to search my eyes. “I found my mom’s bucket list. Things she wanted to do before she died. She never got around to them.”

  “Ohhh.” We grew silent. She turned back staring out to the horizon.

  “I’m going to do some of her list. You know, in case her spirit is waiting around. Kind of give some closure. She wanted to surf. Since I can’t, I thought I’d catch a wave with you.”

  “Sounds good. What else is on the list?”

  She turned to look at me again. “Make up a story about the one that got away, travel, volunteer for someone or something in need, forgive Dad, and fall in love again.”

  “You plan on carrying out her wishes?”

  She hesitated. “Some.”

  Hanna

  I had been thinking that life should be easier, more basic. My dad’s life, Tanner’s life would be simpler without me. After high school there wasn’t much I would take with me if I moved on, some favorite jeans, a few photos, Gator and a whole lot of memories.